


Lord, have Mercy

by MelodiousPoison



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Masturbation, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Solo, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 03:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14633154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodiousPoison/pseuds/MelodiousPoison
Summary: Mercy deserves to take care of herself.- A completely solo masturbation fic with no implied ships.





	Lord, have Mercy

It was a production to remove the armaments and accoutrements from her body. Metal, lights and fabric all carefully stripped off in slow motions, peeled away to reveal the softness of her skin to the warm daylight. She shudders as the cool air drifts around her, body already unused to direct contact of a breeze, a reality realised from hours in being inside her armour. She leans over and places each piece with deliberate care on the table before she sits herself down on the bed, eyes roaming to the open balcony at a short distance. She takes a deep breath in, inhaling the scent of oils and flowers she had selected earlier before she moves to the waiting bed, and sits down, her eyes briefly fluttering before they open once more. The sweet floral aroma eases the subconscious furrow she had between her brows, right before she inhales and exhales with a lean into the waiting pillows. She then releases her hair from her ponytail and gently combs through its short length and tosses the band onto the bedside table.

 

When her fingers slip through the gold of her hair again, unlike before, they continue downwards, her neck instinctively tilting as they caress down it. Her other hand rests at the side of the bed, curling inwards to form a fist. The path continues down, lingering over her collarbone, down to the slow swell of her chest. She feels the faint quiver of her breast as her hand slides over one and squeezes it before releasing it. Sinking deeper into the bed, she begins circling her breast with a fingertip, and with each completed circuit around the areola, she draws closer to the centre. There she gently flicks it before grasping it gently between her forefinger and thumb, her face already pinking, her other hand, raising to stroke along her stomach. Inside, she feels alive with a twist of warmth wrapping itself inside her the more she restrained herself from dipping lower between he still tightly closed legs. It had been too long since she has been able to take the time to feel this, the layered tension of desire and limit clashing without any consequences beyond a tethered impatience for more. 

 

Agitating herself enough that she removes her hand from her nipple, she allows the hand that smoothed along her stomach to fall down to her thighs and between. She feels the warmth and hesitantly widens her legs further. She was not ashamed of her body, years of medical practice and knowledge of not only patients but her own body and what it enjoyed. It had left her with a quiet confidence in that regard, but still, the lingering anticipation wracked through her. Her finger runs upwards along the slit before parting it at the top to reach the clit. She immediately squirms, thighs clenching around her hand from the sensitive nub responding to the stimulation. She softens her movements and changes to a more circular motion, a fiery hue of red forming on her face as it splays across her cheeks. From there, she drives herself down to a laying down position, changing the direction she touches the nub each time her body feeling sparks with the sensation. Her legs ease open as she continues, her finger pushing harder against it, harder to gain the same tingling sensation of the first time she touched it. With each motion, her other hand clenches harder around her breast before she breathlessly releases it with a gentle groan. It lowers, she lifts herself upwards in order for her arm to go beneath her now completely parted thighs, it goes underneath right down towards the already wettened area of her vagina, middle finger pressed until it reaches her knuckle. She pulls it out of her, timing it to an almost experimental flick of the nub before she begins to rhythmically move her hands in time together.

 

At first, it was smooth, as precise and teasing as when she first started and although the strain to keep it just so was present, it faded the more her hands moved along and inside her. Each thrust, each slide made her wetter, her lips parting into quickened breaths. Her hips subtly moving upwards with a curl of her finger which is soon joined with another. Building, falling apart by her very own hands, she pushes herself closer to the edge, pushing her fingers almost desperate to find the release at the edge of her fingertips. She cums, her insides clenching around her digits as her body is overwhelmed. It takes a few minutes for her body to ease down from the high of orgasm, feet uncurled, breath evening and her fingers were gently removed from the greatly sensitised area. Dewy with perspire, the high is replaced with a drowsy warmth wrapping over her. Yet she reluctantly stands, stretching herself in an attempt to wake herself from the lethargy formed from her pleasure. She has work to do.


End file.
